The Beacon (2022) - Tallulah Falls School Literary & Arts Magazine

TALLULAH FALLS SCHOOL LITERARY & ARTS MAGAZINE

2021-2022 VOLUME 1

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THE BEACON 2022 Table of Contents

OPEN SUBMISSIONS SHORT STORIES Class by Mei Hui de Velasco......................................................................................................................................................4 POEMS Flower by Mei Hui de Velasco................................................................................................................................................... 6 The Harbinger of Gifts by Timothy Beck.................................................................................................................................... 7 Falling by Caroline Smith......................................................................................................................................................... 17 ART Boy by Amy Ma ........................................................................................................................................................................4 London by Simeon Conjagic......................................................................................................................................................5 All the People by Sophie Herrera..............................................................................................................................................5 Magnolia by Nick Edenfield.......................................................................................................................................................6 The Butterfly by Kylee Loudermilk.............................................................................................................................................7 Pizza Kitchen by Kailyn Neal.....................................................................................................................................................8 Mushrooms by Savannah Harris...............................................................................................................................................8 Globe by Sandra Badia Cester..................................................................................................................................................8 Goat With an Orange by Lily Cai...............................................................................................................................................9 Blue Jay by Emma Wanner.......................................................................................................................................................9

HALLOWEEN THEME SHORT STORIES Sweetheart by Annabelle Jackson...........................................................................................................................................10 The Great Antlered Beast by Chloe Erwin...............................................................................................................................12 POEMS The Mask and The Make Up by Leah Rogers..........................................................................................................................11 An Ode to Pumpkin Pie by Jenna Chesser..............................................................................................................................14 The Ghost by Camdon Elrod....................................................................................................................................................15 Midnight Feast by Claire Kelly..................................................................................................................................................14 Happy Halloween by Brynne Massey.......................................................................................................................................15 Trick or Treat by Eli Damron.....................................................................................................................................................16 Falling by Caroline Smith..........................................................................................................................................................17 ART Skeleton Head by Ashyln Yaskiewicz.......................................................................................................................................10 Lonely Halloween by Ava Hammon.......................................................................................................................................... 11 Clown Face by Mina Beratovic.................................................................................................................................................12 Frog by Lilly Kate Farrar...........................................................................................................................................................16 Pumpkin by Reese Wilson........................................................................................................................................................14 Mr Nobody by Zeke Phillips......................................................................................................................................................15 Fillete Piano by Landry Carnes................................................................................................................................................17

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WINTER POEMS Time of Year by Jason Bard.....................................................................................................................................................18 The True Meaning of Christmas by Caroline Smith..................................................................................................................19 The Dancer Caroline Moseley..................................................................................................................................................20 Alone by Kailyn Neal................................................................................................................................................................21 ART Snow Trees by Chloe Kahwach................................................................................................................................................18 Flamenco by Sandra Badia......................................................................................................................................................20 Wood Burn by George Ketch....................................................................................................................................................21

We are excited to present Tallulah Falls School with the first volume of The Beacon Literary Magazine. We have collected short stories, art, poems, and photography to showcase student work. The Beacon collected student’s various forms of composition to showcase the artistic talent of the students at TFS. The editors choose a seasonal approach to collecting submissions. They started with a competition during the Halloween season. Sophomore Annabelle Jackson won with her short story, “Sweetheart.” They combined the Winter and Spring season competition with a Christmas and Valentine theme. Kailyn Neal won with her poem, “Alone.” Finally, the editors opened up a free section where anyone could submit their work.

This one was the most successful. Sophomore Lily Cai won with her photo, Goat With an Orange.

A big thanks to all of the students that contributed to The Beacon. We also want to thank Mrs. Brandi Wood and Mrs. Lane Gresham for their design and organization contribution. We could not have done it without you all.

Editors: Victoria Verberkmoes, Zoja Cerovic, and Mia Hamon Advisor: Elisha Boggs Cover Art: Waterfall by Cecily Tucker

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Boy by Amy Ma

FREE FORM

Class

by Mei Hui de Velasco

I

was dreading the next period, but not like the normal way people dread English class — I was in lockdown panic mode, and there

was no way out. Our class wasn’t too large, but oh, how a room of fifteen can feel like an endless crowd. I wasn’t even up next. I was going right after April Hudson, and she wasn’t even next. Right now, Jayda Forne was presenting, and we were going in alphabetical order. The next few presenters leading up to my turn were good—like, really good—which made this even harder. And the counting. Oh, the counting was awful, and if I had my say, it was specifically directed at students like me. “Janessa Lasher, four more until your turn.” Then it was, “just three more,” and then two, and then, “Miss Lasher, you’re up.”

Saying I walked up to the front of the room may have been an understatement; it may have been more of a stumbling or a dragging,

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but I was a little too dizzy to tell. My classmates were staring at me already. I could feel their eyes, but again, maybe I was just being delusional. I could feel my body shaking, trembling as I made my way to the podium. The words on the essay I would have to read aloud seemed fuzzy and were not staying any more clear than the headache I’d had all day. I couldn’t tell if the pounding was throbbing or my imagination. By the time I centered myself and took a firm grip of the podium, I had managed to cool down a bit. But everything only shattered as I looked up into the sea of eyes watching me—every movement, every action.

All the People

by Sophie Herrera

London

by Simeon Conjagic

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Flower

by Mei Hui DeVelasco

The tall grass sways in the breeze, And so do all the skinny trees.

The rocks are there not traveling far, They’ve made nature a superstar.

The leaves — they die and turn dark brown, But Mother Nature hasn’t frowned.

But when I die she pities me, For my love is not always seen.

Magnolia by Nick Edenfield

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The Harbinger of Gifts

by Timothy Beck

W

hy would something so small be so beautiful?

Like receiving an expensive ring in a small box, So much more valuable than a massive stuffed bear, A small gift rather than a large gift, why?

This gift is a ladybug.

Why lady? What happens if a ladybug is a male?

The origin is from legends of our Virgin Mary.

How strange, this tiny beetle is named after the bearer of our Son! The ladybug brought gifts to our masters.

It brought Wine to Mary, Oil to Jesus, and Bread to God! But now it sits in a schoolyard crawling up a boy’s finger.

But the gifts still flourish in the body of the insect.

For the ladies in Belgium, the bug will soon bring love.

In Italy, Mothers pray for it to land on the baby’s cradle as it will bring luck.

While in England it brings the most loveliest of weather.

For me, it barely does much except hope for me to pray for some luck.

The bug is the Harbinger of gifts, The embodiment of luck.

But it sits in our gardens, Not looking for much.

Butterfly by Kylee Loudermilk 7

Globe by Sandra Badia Cester Pizza Kitchen by Kailyn Neal 8

Fairy Village by Savannah Harris

Goat With an Orange by Lily Cai

Blue Jay by Emma Wanner 9

HALLOWEEN

Students were encouraged to submit Halloween themed stories for the Literary Magazine contest to promote submissions. Annabelle Jackson won with her blood thirsty piece Sweetheart.

Sweetheart

by Annabelle Jackson

T

his is just like our first date. She’s at the dining room table, smiling at me while I cook her favorite dish. Music echoing throughout the open area, making me sway with the beat. I couldn’t have been any happier. As I bring her plate of pasta to the space in front of her, she leans down to sniff it, almost letting her nose hit the sauce on top.

“You’re as clumsy as I remember Miley.” I say smiling, making my way to the seat across from her. Eating our dinner, we talk about all of the memories we’ve made so far. People always doubted our relationship, saying things like “Dean, it’s not going to work out,” or “Dean just let it go, Miley doesn’t like you like that,”. But look what happened. Through persistence and patience, we were able to achieve this; a perfect relationship.

Miley slumps down in her chair with her head leaning over the back, obviously full. I take our plates to the kitchen while she sits at the table, contentment from the meal showing on her face. Walking over to her, she is still grinning up at me. I wipe the red from her mouth with a napkin. Like I said, she’s always been clumsy.

As one of our favorite songs starts playing, I pick Miley up from her seat. Just like our first date, we dance in the living room. Her feet are on mine, her hands slung around my shoulders, and that same grin.

“You look as beautiful as ever Miley,” I mutter, leaning down to kiss her lips. Colder than before, yet still that feeling of warm honey dripping from her lips and onto mine. I wipe my face with my hand and then place it back down on her waist. Red from my hand soaking through her thin shirt. She put up a small fight before finally giving in, letting us happen. I knew I could make her smile, and she did. I knew I could claim her as mine, and I did.

What can I say, I was in love. I told her that too, but she never said it back. I might not have given her enough time to. But looking at her now, face pressed against my chest, that same smile still plastered on her face, and dried tears of joy under her eyes, it’s obvious she loves me. Some communication is non verbal, that’s what I’ve been reminding myself all night.

As the song comes closer to the end, I pull her closer to my chest, not caring if the warm blood from her face and chest seeps into my shirt. A tear falls from my eye; I’m finally happy. I smile to myself as we continue swaying back and forth, her feet swinging in the air. Blonde hair reflecting the warm light of my lamp, my name carved in her chest, and a smile to stay for eternity, I know she’ll forever be mine.

My sweetheart.

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The Mask and the Makeup

by Leah Rogers

E

veryone tells me to smile.

They tell me to cheer up.

So I do.

I put on my mask, So close to breaking , Fragile to the touch.

Then I put on the make up, To cover the seams, The edges never visible to the eye.

When I wake it’s all still there, The mask, the makeup, and the bottles.

A new day.

I don’t need the mask today, Or so I think.

This may sound sad, But don’t feel bad.

Nothing is wrong.

I’m perfectly fine.

Laugh at mean comments to make everyone feel better.

Bottle every emotion up till they’re about to spill.

As long as no one’s feelings are hurt, I’m fine.

When I go home all I want to do is pour those bottles out.

I want to wipe the makeup off with tears And want to throw that mask on the floor, But there’s more people to please.

My mind tortures me relentlessly.

It tells me I’m not good enough.

I know it’s not true, but I can’t get over it.

It finds ways to convince me And I’m stuck, stuck with it forever.

The words, “Don’t feel sorry for me,” “I’m fine,” “Oh nothing’s on my mind,” Are all empty, meaningless statements.

All lies to hide the truth.

Say it so people won’t worry about me.

Clown Face

by Mina Beratovic

The only time I am ever safe to empty my loadIs when I’m asleep or alone.

Let the nightmares suck the tears from my eyes.

Like a tea kettle full of emotions I scream till the pressure’s gone.

The mask is like a beast writhing in front of me.

It dies, drowned in the makeup.

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Lonely by Ava Hamon

THE GREAT ANTLERED BEAST

by Chloe Erwin

“They were the closest of friends in the galaxy -- in the entire universe. He was brilliant in every way and she was bright and strong. They were two halves to one whole. They completed each other.

One day, Ivory went missing, only to be found days later, lifelessly sprawled on a riverbed, soaked to the bone. No one knew what had happened to her.

Not even the wise Malice. He was devastated by her loss.

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So, he set off on a journey to bring her back. He searched for years trying to find the aptest human.

Eventually, he found one and he put Ivory’s soul into it. By doing so, he erased the human’s. After such a long time, he finally had her back. ‘I’ve missed you, Ivory’, he told her-.” Nova, her little sister, shrieked in happiness, interrupting her. This was her favorite story. Every winter, when she came down to Mira’s home, she forced her to read it to her. Not many knew the story of Malice and Ivory, but Nova loved it to her core.

Mira washed dishes after Nova left. She looked out the frosted window at the fog-filled fields below.

The cold water chilled her porcelain skin. Lost in thought, her face twisted into a faraway expression.

The field had a certain aesthetic about it. Close to that of a cemetery. A rustling noise wrenched her back to reality, but when she looked again, the field looked empty and still. A thunderous noise filled her ears as she walked towards the sound and leaned on the front door.

“What was that?” she wondered aloud.

It was like metal scraping metal. Like nails on a chalkboard. Like the predatorial cry of the forest at night.

Her face went as pale as milk and her jaw dropped when she saw the source of the noise.

Walking through the fields, a great beast dragged its long legs behind it. Even hunched over, with its lanky body, deer skull head, and protruding ribs, it

still seemed to loom over her.

Hello there.

The beast’s mouth never moved.

Don’t be afraid.

It paused. It sounded as though it was inside her head.

I just want to be friends.

Fear pierced her heart like a silver blade.

Don’t be afraid, it repeated.

I know what you’ve done, Mira. I need you.

When it spoke her name, she was certain she would not make it out.

“What!? What did I do!? What do you want?!” she yelled, but no words came. The only noise was the hard rhythmic beat of her pounding heart.

I just want to help. You’ve done wrong. And now I want to help you fix what you’ve done.

The more Mira heard its voice, the calmer she felt and the more trustworthy it seemed. Almost safe.

“But no, it’s not. It is NOT safe. It’s evil and wicked and awful!”

Closing her eyes, she repeated this to herself until its eerie cries faded away.

After what felt like an eternity, she hesitantly opened her eyes, wishing that this was all a dream.

“It’s gone,” she sighed in relief.

Maybe it really was a dream.

No, I’m still here.

She jumped so violently that the door hinge caught her calf, ripping flesh. She yelped in pain as blood ran down her leg and filled her boot. She was frozen in place.

The beast took one lurching step after another towards her. Her heart skipped a beat.

As it drew nearer, she saw the details of its beastly head. It had great antlers like that of a red stag, with tendrils of ivy and moss cascading down. Its body was thin and it look starved. It had strong, sharp teeth that looked as if it could snap bones, much like those of its skull.

Its gait was slow. It was in no rush to get to Mira.

“Run,” her mind told her body, but it would not cooperate. “Run. Run! RUN! Get away from here!”

Finally, her body succumbed and she began to sprint as hard as she could. Even through the throbbing, excruciating pain, she ran. Through the door, back into the house, around the kitchen, through the living room, through the back door, she continued to run.

Even when she got to the forest behind the home, she ran. She pushed herself to her very limit until she was on the brink of collapsing into the thicket’s open arms. She had already lost so much blood, she could take no more and began to slow. She tried to go on, but she crumpled down to the lush ground.

The girls’ memories were easy to change. Easy to erase. She was as sharp as a marble and her thoughts were brief and unintelligible. My friend deserved a body more than she ever did. Mira. What a fool. Humans are pathetic creatures. They have not a brave nor intellectual bone in their brittle skin.

We were once superior to them. We were once their deities. But they slowly began to stop believing in us.

Now, we will rise back up. Now, they will believe.

She did not realize she had fallen asleep until the light of dawn ebbed at her vision. It felt as though she had slept for years.

She was startled awake, unaware of where she was.

Why am I here? When did I get here?” she stood, shivering Hello, friend.

The voice was kind in her ears. It was a voice she has not heard in a long time. It was a voice she missed dearly. It warmed her to hear it again.

“Hello!” she responded, happily. “Where are you?

Where am I?” I’m right here. Turn around.

She spun on her heels, happy to see her old friend.

“Oh!” she squealed, laughing all the while. “It’s been so long, Malice! I’ve missed you!”

I’ve missed you too, Ivory.

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Pumpkins

ODE TO A PUMPKIN

by Reese Wilson

by Jenna Chesser

Oh pumpkin pie how I love you.

I only wish you were enough to share for two.

The warm fuzzy feeling you give me Makes me filled with such wonderful glee.

This wonderful season in which you exist The taste of the air bringing bliss upon my lips.

Leaves of many colors float from the trees as I look through the erie mist.

This wonderful feeling of my warm coffee I sip.

Oh pumpkin pie, I wish I were you Beloved by all who come into view.

Your delicious crust so delicate and flaky Along with your filling that cannot Even be described as cakey.

Yet you may be hated by ones With distaste and hullabaloo But I just thought you should know,

by Claire Kelly

MIDNIGHT FEAST

I’ll always love you.

Fall is here Scarecrows have invaded the town The children now fear As it grows dark all will frown.

The scarecrows climb off their posts They look around for their next prey No one is around except for the ghosts.

For their victim, they will slay.

In the pumpkin patch, little Charlie hides, Careful not to make any noise.

The scarecrows move fast with their quick strides.

For little Charlie, it’s hard to keep his poise.

As Charlie’s candy dropped, His heart stopped.

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THE GHOST

by Camden Elrod

Many years ago, on Halloween night A ghost gave me a great fright.

He hopped out of the door of a shed And at that moment, I thought I was truly dead.

About that time, the ghost tried again.

To his dismay, I gave him a grin.

The ghost got scared and ran back inside, And this time, he chose to hide.

The euphoria I felt when I fell on the floor Made the ghost scared so he ran back in the door.

I layed on the ground, pondering life, And why Halloween had to be full of such strife.

So whenever someone asks what I believe About Halloween night, I always have this story up my sleeve.

Whenever I tell it, the kids get a fright And never go out again on Halloween night.

HAPPY HALLOWEEN

by Brynne Massey

Dressed up people everywhere.

Trick-or-treating here and there.

Orange and black filled the air.

Nobody seemed to have a care.

Fun and festivities all around.

Cemeteries, not a sound.

Telling stories to friends made us scream.

We pranked each other, trying not to be seen.

Have a happy Halloween!

Mr. Nobody

by Ezekiel Phillips

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Trick or Treat?

by Eli Damron

What is it truly, on this spooky night, What children call fun, I consider a fright.

They walk and they talk and they never halt, They knock on my door and they always want more.

I have nothing to offer and nothing to share, They want a treat but I really don’t care.

I want to know so badly right now, Why do they dress as monsters and clowns?

I ponder the question that I’ve always had, Why are these children always so glad.

What are they doing, what is today, Why won’t this whole thing just go away?

Is it a joke? A prank? A nag?

Why is candy filling their bag?

So my final question to this spooky night, Is it a trick, or a treaty delight?

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Frog

by Lily Kate Ferrar

FALLIN G

by Carolin

e Smith

Falling. ld on you, But you re fused.

I tried to b ring you u p, But you le t go.

Now you’r e Falling.

Deeper an d deeper Into this p it you dug .

I’m trying and trying But I fear it’s too de ep And you k eep Falling.

There’s n o light in th is pit.

How can you see?

I tried to b e your ligh t, But you tu rned it off .

You’re los t and still Falling.

How long will this ru When will n? you realiz e your pit?

Your hole ?

The one y o u dug?

The one w here you’r e still Falling.

It’s deep.

Did you re alize you dug it?

Were you asleep?

When did it start?

When did you start Falling?

I never re alized.

I tried to c atch you.

I tried to h old on.

However, I fear you are now Falling…

Falling…

Falling…

Falling…

I had a ho

Fillete Pia

no by Land

ry Carnes

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Time of Year

by Jason Bard Christmas is finally here.

My favorite time of year.

Bunch of Christmas cheer.

It’s time for snow so grab your gear.

WINTER

Santa slays through the air.

Fleeing past houses in the cold night.

Passing the north star shining on his white hair.

Here comes Santa Claus, following a bright red light.

Is that reindeer I see?

Christmas lights fill me up with glee.

Look! Two people under the mistletoe.

Listening to the Christmas flow.

Time to snuggle my way into Christmas.

Gathering around the cozy campfire.

Lying on the couch staring at TJ. Thinking of what gifts I’ll acquire.

I woke up Christmas morning.

At 8 a.m. I ran downstairs.

I started squirming with All of those presents are under there.

Let’s start opening these presents O my Gosh a PS5 Santa thank you for your rewards.

Opening my last present, I tear the Silver blue wrapping paper.

Thank you, Santa for your presents.

Only 365 days till you sneak in again Can’t wait for the next one.

Goodbye Christmas, here comes New Year’s.

Snow Trees

by Chloe Kahwach

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The True Meaning of Christmas

by Caroline Smith

It’s that time of year.

People are bustling aroun Buying last minute gifts, Stress, floating in the air.

“Jesus…” they repeated.

“Our Messiah, our Lord, “The One Isaiah prophesied.”

“Yes.” Mary replied.

Time slows down.

Families gather and dine together.

The gifts are exchanged, And soon discarded to the floor.

“We must spread the news “Of this miraculous Child.

“We will be saved!”

The men ran off and told the world.

This season is fun, no doubt.

But, is this it?

Things given Then discarded?

No.

Jesus grew up.

He became known as CHRIST, Performing miracles.

He became a wondrous man.

I heard about a star, One that hung in the sky, Leading shepherds and Wise men.

The star led them to a Child, An angel proclaimed.

But, He was also hated.

He was killed He hung on a cross, Was buried inside a cave, and laid there for three days.

The Child, when found, Was in a manger.

A smelly barn Where animals resided.

The Child lay in the hay At peace.

But… He rose.

He rose out of the grave, Saving the people of their sins.

“Who is this child?”

The men wondered.

Mary and Joseph, His parents, Said His name is Jesus.

THIS is the true meaning of CHRISTmas.

All about CHRIST’s birth Because He did a wondrous thing.

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The Dancer

by Caroline Moseley

A skirt waves Slowly As the wind blows.

The dancer Moves To her hombre.

Now two Others Join her.

They dance a Jarabe Tapatio With their men.

The skirts move Quickly In the wind.

Flamenco

by Sandra Badia Cester

Flutter, Flow, Flip.

The flower Moves her petals In an intricate dance.

Encore Azalea!

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Wood Burn

by George Ketch

ALONE

by Kailyn Neal

I hate the way you never have time and always appear to neglect, Hours I spend bored and alone; yet you always seem to forget.

But the more I close myself off and hide behind this wall, I slowly start to lose you and my heart begins to fall.

The bitterness I hold towards you continues to fester and grow, I hide behind angry texts so my wrath I’ll only show.

And soon before I am able to let go of my resent, You’re already gone because I didn’t show you how much you meant.

The less attention I receive only adds to my hurt, Which leads to less emotion reveale and from happiness I divert.

I was tangled up in this bitter world of my own, And before I realized how much I need you I am left standing alone.

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